The Hostage Heart
by bloodsoakedleather
Summary: AU/Cherik/slash. Sold into prostitution at just 18 years of age, Charles Xavier expected the rest of his life to be filled only with pain and misery. He never expected to fall in love. He never expected to be loved in return and he never expected to want that love so desperately, even when the one who claimed to love him turned out to be the one who hurt him the most.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the X-Men franchise. This is just for fun.

**Warning:** This is going to be a very dark fic and more than likely WON'T have a happy ending. Contains kidnapping, torture, mental & physical abuse, rape, violence, substance abuse, self harm and threats of child abuse. Mainly slash, with very small amounts of het. Erik/Charles & since it's set in the world of prostitution, some Charles/others & Erik/others. You have been warned.

**A/N:** I've never written Cherik before (though I love to read it) but this idea came to me and I just couldn't make it work in any of the fandom's I usually write in and Cherik seems to suit this kind of darkness so here we are.

* * *

**THE HOSTAGE HEART**

"See you tomorrow my friend." Charles Xavier said, grinning at his friend Michael. "And don't let Rose keep you up all night." He added with a chuckle. "I'm not letting you borrow my notes this time if you're late for lecture again."

"Yeah yeah, that's what you say now but you know you just give them to me in the end anyway, because you love me."Charles laughed and shook his head.

"You keep telling yourself that you arrogant arse, but I mean it this time. Don't be late."

He turned away and started down the corridor. Somewhere behind him he heard a soft chuckle and a mumbled _'whatever'_ before the door clicked shut. He was still chuckling to himself as he rounded the corner and moved into the stairwell which lead down to floor on which his own dorm was located. It was only a short journey, and one he'd made so often he hardly had to think about it, his feet just carried him as if on auto pilot or whatever the pedestrian equivalent might be. Maybe that's why the sound of shuffling footsteps behind him didn't really register in his brain until it was too late and suddenly there was an arm around his throat, squeezing tightly, making it difficult to breathe and difficult to think.

The last thing he felt before he passed out was the sharp stabbing pain of a needle puncturing his skin as his attacker injected something into his neck.

* * *

When he came to his head was pounding, his throat was dry, he felt sick to his stomach, every muscle in his body ached and he was bloody freezing.

He groaned, somewhat disorientated , trying to push himself up on shaky arms and that was when the cool air ghosting across his lower body alerted him to the fact that he was naked.

_Fuck._ Why was he naked? What the Hell was going on? Where was he? Who had taken him and why? What did they want from him? What were they going to do? A draught reminded him he was naked and that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach began to rise.

No no no no. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be. It couldn't.

His eyes flew open in panic, afraid of what he might see but the room was pitch black, he couldn't see a bloody thing and somehow that made the overwhelming sense of dread he felt that much worse. Blood was rushing in his ears, muffling the noises around him, disorienting him even more, yet still he was dimly aware the sound of hushed, terrified sobs. Too many and too varied to be just his. He wasn't alone, there were others here with him.

As his brain tried to process this information, to figure out what it meant, a door swung open with a loud clang and a brilliant bright light flooded the darkened room, stinging his eyes and temporarily blinding him. He bought an arm up instinctively to shield himself from it and when his eyes began to adjust he found he could just make out a tall, imposing figure standing in the doorway.

"On your fucking feet." A heavily accented, Russian perhaps Charles couldn't be sure, voice demanded. When no one moved, the voice repeated it's demand, louder. "I SAID GET ON YOUR FEET! IF YOU DO NOT DO AS YOU ARE TOLD YOU WILL BE PUNISHED!"

The threat made Charles shiver, he didn't want to think about what the punishment might be and he certainly didn't want to find out so he reluctantly did as instructed and stood up, cupping his hands in front of his groin to cover his nakedness. As he glanced around the room he saw there were a dozen or so others who'd been confined with him, boys and girls. Most were around his age, a couple maybe a little younger, it was hard to tell, but they were all naked, and all every bit as scared as Charles.

* * *

Half leaning, half sitting on the edge of his polished mahogany desk, Erik Lehnsherr poured himself a scotch from the decanter at his side and took a slow luxurious sip.

"How many more are there?" He asked his associate.

"This will be the last three boss." The Russian said, handing over the last of the files. Erik didn't bother to open them. Azazel opened the office door and gestured to one of his men to bring the last three kids inside.

Each slender body was naked, each shackled at the hands and feet, each one chained to the next by a collar around their necks. Once they were lined up before him Erik gave them each a cursory glance. The first, a red haired boy in his late teens, was lightly freckled and a bit too skinny for Erik's liking though not unpleasant to look at. The second, another boy, same approximate age, was more to Erik's taste. Brunette, pretty blue eyes, skinny but not as skinny as the redhead. The third was blonde. A girl… a young girl. Not much more than thirteen he'd guess. If she was even that.

He smacked the files down on his desk, put his glass down next to them and pushed himself up to a standing position, glaring at the girl with barely concealed disgust.

"What the fuck is this?" He hissed pointing at her but turning his glare towards Azazel.

"Sorry boss, she was… unexpected. She came from nowhere. She saw us, we had to bring her."

"You didn't think to just shoot her?"

"I thought it might attract unwanted attention. And I thought you might find a use for her anyway. Maybe Marko?"

Erik mulled the idea over in his mind for a few moments.

"Hmmm." He eyed the tearful, trembling girl again. "What's your name girl?"

"R…Raven." She answered through tears.

"And how old are you Raven?"

"T…twelve." Through more tears.

"Twelve. She's a little old, for Marko. He generally prefers them in single figures. She's small though." He sighed thoughtfully. "I suppose he _might_ take her, if the price is right."

The brunette opened his mouth to say something but Azazel crept up behind him and silenced him with a hand over his mouth and growl against his ear.

"I recommend silence boy." He indicated the array of whips and crops which adorned the wall behind the desk. The brunette went still and the Russian released his hold.

Erik passed the brunette without even a glance and moved straight to the redhead.

"Name." He demanded.

"Sean." The boy answered timidly.

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Nineteen?" Erik raised an eyebrow and took a closer look at the naked form in front of him. "You look younger, which is not necessarily a bad thing." He moved behind the boy and ran a hand over his buttocks, squeezing gently and chuckling to himself when the boy didn't flinch quite as much as he'd expected him to. "Interesting." He said, moving back around to the front. "You've had a cock in your ass before, haven't you?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Sean's blush was very noticeable on his pale skin and it made his freckles stand out. He just nodded shamefully as a tear rolled down his cheek. "Good, that makes things easier… for me."

Now Erik came to stand in front of the brunette.

"Name." He demanded, as he had with Raven and Sean. The brunette did not answer. Erik sighed. "Don't be difficult boy, it's been a very long day and I'm really not in the mood to put up with it. Tell me your name." Still no answer came from the brunette, he just stared at Erik defiantly. "Fine. Then we'll just do this the hard way. Azazel, take down my crop."

Azazel moved towards the rear wall and reached for a shiny black leather riding crop.

"Charles. My name is Charles." The brunette answered hurriedly, eyes wide with terror as the Russian moved closer, crop in hand.

"That's better." Erik said, fixing the boy with a cruel smirk. "And how old are you?"

"Eighteen." Charles murmured nervously, never taking his eyes off the crop as Erik took it from the other man's hands. "Now tell me Charles, have you ever been fucked by a man before like Sean here has?" Erik didn't give the boy a chance to answer the question before he pressed himself up tight against his body and reached behind him to grab his ass. Instinctively Charles jerked away from the touch, unwittingly pushing his own body tighter against the other mans and blushing furiously when he felt his hardness digging into his hip. Erik's smirk grew wider and he shifted his hips just a little, letting the boy feel him, letting him learn what a real man felt like when he was aroused. Charles squirmed, trapped between the two unwelcome touches. "No, I don't think you have. Hmmm… I bet you've never had a cock in that pretty mouth of yours either." The flush on Charles' cheeks deepened and tears began to form in his eyes as he shook his head. "You must prefer women then. You like the feeling of full firm breasts beneath your hands and a slippery wet pussy around your eager young cock."

Though his eyes were closed, deliberately avoiding anyone's gaze, tears streamed down the boys face. Erik could swear he was blushing _all_ over and he couldn't help but smile to himself.

"Well well. I do believe young Charles here is an honest to God virgin Azazel."

"A rare treasure. He will fetch a good price." The Russian replied with a smirk that matched Erik's.

"Indeed he will." He took a step back then, the tone of his voice switching from cruel amusement to something colder, more business like. "Get Hank to check all of them over, then find them rooms. This one…" He waved in Sean's general direction. "Can get straight to work in the morning and I'll start arrangements to have this one auctioned." He nodded towards Charles.

"What about this one?" Azazel queried, drawing his boss's attention back to the little girl.

"Shit." He muttered. "I forgot about her." He sighed, then answered. "When you're done with Hank get Marko on the phone for me. _Maybe_ we can come to some sort of an arrangement."

"No!" Charles cried out suddenly, surprising both Erik and Azazel with his unsolicited outburst. "You can't do that. Please. She's just a baby. You can't."

Erik glared at the boy furiously and backhanded him across the jaw. There was a loud crack. Charles hissed in pain and fell to his knees. Either side of him, Raven and Sean stumbled as the collars around their necks were yanked. Erik crouched before Charles and wrapped his hand around his throat and said in a low, menacing growl

"I can, and will do whatever I want with you or her or anyone else here and never you forget it. This is _my_ home and _my_ business and you and Sean and dear sweet little Raven are _my_ property. Is that clear?" He tightened his grip on the boys throat, choking the air out of him. There was a depth of fear in his eyes that made Erik thrill but that earlier defiance still remained too and he knew this boy was going to take some work if he was to break him. He continued to glare at him, watching as his face twisted.

"You sick bastard." Charles rasped hoarsely as he fought desperately to take a breath.

"You have no idea boy." The boy spat in his face. Erik shot him a look somewhere between a snarl and a grin. Oh he was really going to enjoy breaking this one. "Azazel. Remove his collar and get those two out of here. Charles and I are going to have a little… chat, about the rules. And the punishment for breaking them."

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


	2. Chapter 2

Erik released his grip on the boys throat and stood up, staring hard at him while he coughed and gasped and trembled.

"Stand up." He barked, and when the boy didn't obey the order immediately he flicked an expert wrist and brought the riding crop down on the boys exposed shoulder with a sharp thwack, small beads of blood forming along the grazed skin almost instantly.

Charles yelped in pain and shock and shuffled back a little from where he lay sprawled.

"Stand up." Erik repeated the command but Charles still did not move. Again he struck out with the crop, harder than before, tearing rather than grazing the skin, and tearing a harsh cry from the disobedient boy. "I said stand up."

The boy lifted his head and glared up at Erik, eyes filled with tears and a mix of fear and hate. His bottom lip carried a small split which wept blood and bruises were already beginning to form on his jaw and throat where Erik's hands had been. He looked quite beautiful that way. Erik thought Charles should always carry a bruise or two, maybe more. The thought made his cock twitch.

"Fuck you." Charles hissed, still defiant in spite of the fear and the pain. So, the boy had some fire in him. That excited Erik in a way that few things did these days. Oh yes, he and Charles could have a lot of fun together. A smirk tugged at the corners of Erik's mouth as he struck the boy once more, opening a long bloody gash across his chest. Charles' involuntary scream was music to his ears.

Erik crouched again in front of the boy, not touching, just watching until Charles was squirming uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Charles, Charles, Charles." He tutted at last. "This continued disobedience will do you little good. You see, it doesn't make me angry. It pleases me to see you struggle, to see you bleed. It… arouses me." He took hold of one shackled hand and placed it over his growing erection, moaning softly. "Do you feel that Charles? This is what it does to me to hear you scream."

* * *

It made Charles sick to feel the other man's hardness throbbing and thickening beneath his hand, to know that the monster got some sort of sick pleasure from tormenting him, and he tried desperately to pull away but he couldn't move. The grip that held him there was strong, much stronger than him. It was crushing, he could almost hear the bones crunching as the grip tightened, could feel them grinding against one another and the pain was horrific, he was afraid a bone might actually break.

"Please." He whimpered, his cheeks burning red with shame. He hated himself in that moment, hated how weak and pathetic he sounded, almost more than he hated the man who was torturing him. Hated that he wasn't strong enough to withstand the pain. He didn't want to beg, but it was just too much.

"Please what Charles?" The man tightened his grip further. Something snapped, a sharp pain, worse than anything he'd felt before now, shot up his arm making him scream out loud and he knew now, without a doubt that his hand was broken.

"Please. Let go." He sobbed, a swell of fresh tears tumbling down his cheeks. "It hurts."

The man released his grip instantly and rose to his feet.

"Now are you going to stand up like you were told to do?"

Charles nodded miserably, defeated, for now.

His tormenter extended a hand but Charles ignored it and crawled awkwardly to the wall, using his uninjured shoulder for support as he slowly dragged himself to his feet, biting down hard on his already bruised bottom lip to stifle another cry. It was bad enough he'd given in to the pain so easily as it was, he wouldn't give the bastard anything else, wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing just how badly he was hurting. Not now, not ever.

The other man watched him struggle with an amused grin but he couldn't bring himself to care right now. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, trying to shut out the pain but it didn't work. It was all that existed, it consumed him, he felt light headed, dizzy, like he was going to pass out.

Through the fog he thought he could faintly hear the other man's voice, calm and emotionless.

"Hank, it's Erik. You'd better send someone up to my office. The boy is going to need some medical attention."

And he supposed, on some level, he should be grateful for that at least.

* * *

Kicking off his designer leather shoes the minute he stepped through the door to his suite, Erik strode purposefully towards his liquor cabinet, shrugging off his suit jacket as he went and tossing it over the back of a chair. Next he loosened his tie, tugging it over his head and aiming it in the same general direction as the jacket before undoing the top two buttons of his shirt.

He poured himself a large drink, then scrolled down the playlist on his audio system, stopping at Wagner and hitting play before sinking down into the couch with a contented sigh and a long slow sip of scotch, glad to finally relax. It had been a long fucking day.

As he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, his thoughts began to drift towards the new arrivals, one in particular. That slender brunette with the brilliant blue eyes and puffy pink lips and the gall to defy _him_, the all powerful Erik Lehnsherr. Even untouched Charles was beautiful, there was no denying it, but bruised and bloodied and tearful, and crying out in pain he was absolutely fucking stunning. Erik had gotten such a hardon for him and just thinking about him now was getting him hard again.

Setting his glass down on the end table Erik quickly unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, letting it fall open. Slowly his fingers began to wander, skimming his chest, brushing his nipples then trailing lower, making lazy circles around his belly button before moving lower still. He cupped his erection through his pants and squeezed gently, unable to keep from moaning at the sensation. It felt so good, but he was fucking hornier right now than he'd been in a long time and he knew jerking off wasn't going to do the job, not this time. He needed to fuck.

Briefly he toyed with the idea of saying fuck it to the auction and sending for Charles. He was the boss, if he wanted the boy for himself there was nothing stopping him, but as tempting as that idea was, Erik _really_ liked having money and Charles' virgin ass could make him upwards of three times the usual amount. He wasn't going to throw that amount of cash away just for a fuck, no matter how hot the boy got him. Besides, he'd fuck Charles soon enough. As soon as that cherry was popped he was going to bury his cock so deep in that boys ass he'd be able to taste it and fuck him over every available surface in every conceivable position until he couldn't stand up, and he was going to make him fucking beg for it too.

But until then, he'd have to find someone else to help him scratch that particular itch. And he knew just the man.

He reached for the phone and dialled down to the lobby, tapping his foot impatiently while he waited for someone to answer… finally.

"Janos, it's Erik… Is James with a client right now?… Great, have him sent to my suite. Now."


	3. Chapter 3

The scratches, that's what the doctor had called them, on his back hadn't needed stitches or a dressing, they weren't deep enough, they'd heal much better he'd been told, if they were allowed to dry out naturally. The gash across his chest however had needed both, antibiotics too in case of infection and a healthy does of painkiller, mostly for his broken hand which the doctor had set, looking at him the whole time with concerned eyes but never once asking how it had happened.

It had taken several hours to treat his various injuries, it was late when it was finished and he'd spent the night in the infirmary. The next morning he'd been released straight into the hands of two security goons. Now he was alone, laying on his side on a bed in what he assumed was to be his room for the rest of his life, however long that might be. He hoped not very.

Between the ache in his jaw, the sting on his back, the burn in his chest and the throbbing in his hand he was in agony. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, it even hurt to think. His last dose of painkiller had begun to wear off some time ago and he'd been given no more in anticipation of that, no doubt in case he'd decided to take them all at once and put himself out of this misery. He couldn't help but wonder if someone had actually done that once. If they had, he was glad for them whoever they were.

Hissing under his breath and squeezing his eyes tightly shut against pain when the scratches on his back pulled and stung afresh, he curled in on himself and cried. Cried until he had nothing left in him and everything hurt even more than it had to start with.

He wasn't really sure how long he'd lain there. Long enough that he'd seen the light start to fade through the small, barred window opposite the bed, and the bustle and commotion that had seemed to echo through the whole place earlier had grown somewhat quieter so he guessed it must be at least early evening.

He heard a soft rap on the door and a timid voice called out.

"Charles, it's Sean. I heard they'd brought you up here. I wanted to come and see you earlier but I… I was busy." The last part was spoken in a sad mumble. "Can I come in?"

Sean. Charles recognised the name, it was the red haired boy he'd been brought in with.

"Yeah, I guess." He fidgeted awkwardly where he lay, wincing and biting his lip, reopening the split, and turned his head as best he could to see the boy as he crept closer to the bed. He frowned hard when he spotted the scratches on Charles' back and when he moved round to the other side of the bed his eyes went wide.

"Christ! Lehnsherr really did a number on you, huh?" He said, taking in the worst of Charles' injuries.

Lensherr. So that was the bastards name, for all that it mattered. Sean wore only a pair of loose fitting jeans slung low on his skinny frame and Charles could see clearly that he was sporting a few bruises of his own, finger marks on his wrists and hips, just visible above the waistband of his jeans, and a black eye that was already swollen.

"Looks like someone did a number on you too."

Sean shrugged his shoulders and rubbed self consciously at his wrist.

"It's not so bad. Could've been a lot worse." Charles didn't doubt it. "Look, I can't stay long, I've got another… appointment, I just wanted to see how you were cuz I was kinda freaked out last night, but if you want, I can try and come back again later."

Charles nodded.

"I'd like that."

* * *

"Hank tells me you're healing well." Erik said, staring at Charles across his desk. "He says the stitches can come out in a few more days."

"Great." Charles mumbled under his breath. Erik glared at him.

"Sarcasm doesn't become you Charles."

"Like I give a damn."

Erik grinned to himself, pleased to see that a week of enforced inactivity with nothing to do but think and stew had not dimmed any of Charles' fire.

"Charles, Charles, Charles." He said shaking his head as he pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up, moving round so that he stood directly in front of the boy. "Did this teach you nothing?" He reached out a hand and drew his index finger slowly and deliberately across Charles' chest, alongside the now undressed wound. The boys shoulders tensed slightly and he shuddered at the touch but he said nothing. Erik's finger retraced it's journey and came to a stop at the hollow dip just below Charles' throat. He caressed the faded, yellowing bruises there just briefly the grabbed him as he'd done before and squeezed. "Answer me boy or you will be punished again."

"I don't care what you do to me." Charles choked out. "You can kill me if you want. Anything would be better than being stuck here."

Erik smirked and leant forward, brushing his lips against the boys ear and whispering roughly.

"Now where would be the fun in that?" He loosened his grip abruptly and took a step back, seating himself on the edge of his desk with his legs stretched out in front of him. "You already know it makes me hard to see you suffer." He lowered his gaze to the front of his pants where a nice bulge was beginning to form. Charles's gaze followed involuntarily. "Really fucking hard." He said, rubbing his dick through his pants and moaning softly.

"You disgust me."

Erik shrugged his shoulders and chuckled cruelly.

"Like I give a damn."

Charles glowered fiercely at him.

"Jesus, will you stop with these games and just do whatever the Hell it is you're gonna do to me so I can get the fuck out of here."

"What do you think I'm going to do to you Charles? What do you want me to do?"

"I told you already, I don't care."

"Yes yes, I think we've established that." He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the boy for a moment. "Clearly you're not afraid of physical pain, you're obviously quite adept at handling it. But I wonder… Do you think your friend Sean is as strong as you?"

"You wouldn't dare." Charles' eyes went wide and Erik was delighted to hear a slight tremor in his voice. So he _was_ afraid of something. That could definitely be used to advantage.

"I assure you Charles, I most certainly would dare, though I suspect young Sean is more like you than you think. That little blonde thing on the other hand… What was her name? Raven?"

If it was possible, Charles' eyes went even wider.

"She's still here?"

"For now." To say he'd been pissed when Marko had told him no deal, that the girl was too old and he wasn't interested no matter how cheap the price, would be an understatement. He'd practically torn Azazel a new asshole for being stupid enough to bring her here but now he was beginning to wonder if that anger hadn't been misplaced. After all, if Charles was more concerned about his friends than he was about himself, which appeared to be the case, the girl might actually proved useful.

"Don't hurt her. Please. She's just a little girl, she doesn't deserve this."

"Tell me Charles, if I spare her, for a little while longer, what will you do to make it worth my while?"

"I…"

Erik 's smirked as he watched the play of emotions on Charles face. The poor boy was torn between his pride and his conscience. Would he really be able stand by and let an innocent child take the punishments that were meant for him, or would he swallow his pride and submit to Erik's every whim to keep her safe.

"Come on boy, I'm waiting." He demanded, already knowing what the answer would be.

Charles shoulders sagged dramatically and he hung his head, choking back an anguished sob.

"I'll do anything you want me to."

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


	4. Chapter 4

Erik glowered at the computer screen, a low growl rumbling deep inside his chest. Beneath Charles picture, in large, bright red letters, flashed the words 'Auction Ended', and beneath that in slightly smaller letters 'Winning bidder: Sebastian Shaw".

Sebastian fucking Shaw. It just had to be him didn't it? God how Erik hated the man. He was smug, narcissistic, devious, intelligent, sadistic, charming and power hungry. Everything Erik himself was really and yet, somehow, not. The only reason Erik tolerated his continued patronage was because he was so obscenely wealthy. In actuality, Shaw was probably one of the wealthiest men on the planet, far wealthier than Erik himself, a fact he liked to remind him of frequently, and as such was prone to dropping several million dollars in one weekend long visit.

For some reason though, today just the thought of having Shaw in his establishment at any time in the near future rankled him more than usual and he toyed briefly with the idea of extending the auction in the hope that an eleventh hour bid might topple Shaw from his position of highest bidder. Ultimately though, he knew this to be a pointless exercise. Shaw had never been outbid, not when he really wanted something and if the ridiculously over the odds winning bid was anything to go by, he really wanted Charles.

The rumbling growl in Erik's chest grew deeper. He was angry and he didn't know why. Normally the thought of Shaw's money being deposited into his bank account was enough to make Erik forget, temporarily, any ill feeling he had towards the man but not this time. Well, there was no sense in dwelling on it, business was business after all. He sent his usual congratulatory email to Shaw's address and awaited his reply. It came quickly, as was expected, Shaw informing him that he would be arriving late the next day.

That was something at least. The quicker he got here the quicker he would be done with Charles and the quicker he could fuck off.

He supposed he should give the boy the good news.

* * *

"Mr Lehnsherr wants you in his office." Azazel said bluntly, not waiting for a response before grabbing Charles by the arm and hauling him to his feet.

"What if don't want to go?" Charles asked defiantly, trying unsuccessfully to yank his arm away.

Azazel's answering glare told Charles all he needed to know and he sighed heavily, his arm going limp as he allowed himself to be manhandled.

"Fine." He mumbled unhappily. "Let's go."

The Russian dragged him out into the hallway but instead of taking him downstairs straight away, he was taken in the opposite direction and up a different set of stairs altogether.

"This isn't the way to Mr Lehnsherr's office?" He questioned.

"There is someone he wants you to see first."

Charles frowned.

"What sort of someone?" Azazel didn't offer an answer, he didn't even spare a grunt , he just kept pulling him until finally they reached the apparent destination.

"You have two minutes, no more." The Russian told him, as the guard unlocked the door for them. Azazel shoved him into the room and assumed his own position at guard. The force of the shove made Charles stumble forward and it took him a moment to regain his balance. Once he had he glanced around the room, his eyes settling quickly on a small figure perched on the edge of the bed looking relatively healthy and thankfully unscathed.

He sucked in a short, surprised breath.

"Raven."

* * *

"Come in." Erik called out, answering the knock on his door. The door swung open with a creak and in stepped Azazel with Charles in tow.

"I brought the boy." He said, dragging him forward and giving him another shove.

"Thank you Azazel." Erik glanced at his watch. "That will be all, you may take the rest of the evening off to… avail yourself of the facilities if you wish." The meaning was clear and a broad, lascivious grin spread across the Russian's face.

"Yes boss, thank you boss."

Erik chuckled softly to himself as he watched the other man practically sprint from the room and made a mental note to have Hank check in on Darwin in the morning, no doubt there'd be some minor issues which would require treatment before he could attend his first appointment.

"Charles." He said, turning his attention back to the matter at hand. "You've seen your young friend Raven." It wasn't a question. Charles nodded. "Speak up boy."

"Yes."

"And you're satisfied that she hasn't been harmed at all?"

"Yes." Charles paused for a moment then added quietly. "Thank you, Mr Lehnsherr."

Erik raised one eyebrow and looked at the boy, surprised at the freely offered thanks.

"I'm a man of my word Charles. I told you she would be safe as long as you behaved and I meant it. And as long as you continue to behave she will remain so. Now, on to the reason I sent for you." He turned the computer monitor round so that Charles could easily see the screen from where he stood. "This is Mr Shaw."

Charles stared at the screen for a moment and Erik saw his blue eyes darken as he came to his understanding.

"He's the one who… He's the one paying for the privilege of being the first one to rape me."

"Now Charles, you promised you'd behave." Erik admonished.

"And I will, for Raven's sake. But just because I'm going to let him and anyone else do what they want to me, doesn't mean I have to like it. And just because I won't fight back doesn't mean I want it. That makes it rape."

Erik raised an eyebrow again. So, even when he was tamed and obedient, this boy still had fire. He wasn't broken yet. Not entirely. He liked that very much. His cock liked that. He stood up and walked round to the front of his desk.

"Charles, Charles, Charles." He said. "You still have so much to learn. You may not believe me right now because at this moment all you can think of is that you're here against your will, but trust me, it's not impossible to find pleasure here."

"With him?" Charles snorted indignantly and nodded at the screen. "I doubt that."

Erik flashed the boy a cruel smirk.

"No no, not from him. I'm quite sure you won't enjoy your time with _him_ at all." He watched the boy closely, pleased to see a hint of fear creeping back into his beautiful blue eyes. Charles was gorgeous when he was scared.

He felt his cock beginning to stir inside his pants but his arousal was tempered by something akin to jealousy. In this moment, Charles was more scared of Shaw than he was him. Erik didn't like that one bit. What he liked even less, was the thought that very soon Shaw would be putting his hands on the boys body. Shaw would be touching Charles intimately, marking him with scratches and bruises. Shaw would see those pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock and hear those choked, retching noises as he gagged around him. Shaw would have the boy beneath him, would see the tears in his eyes and hear the screams of pain as he fucked him brutally until he came all over himself, utterly humiliated. And what was worse, was that Shaw would have all of these things before Erik. The boy belonged to Erik, but Shaw would get to enjoy him first and there was nothing he could do about it now.

That made Erik's blood boil. He should have said _'fuck the auction'_ when he had the chance.

"Come here." He ordered. Charles looked at him, uncertainty clouding his features but Erik was in no mood to explain. "Do as you're fucking told." He hissed, and apparently, even Charles knew not to defy him in his current mood because in a flash he was there, in front of him, toe to toe and terrified. Erik's mood improved somewhat. "Now kiss me."

Charles' eyes went wide with shock.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I don't understand."

"Just do it."

Flushed with fear and confusion, Charles tipped his head slightly to one side, licked his lips nervously and pressed his lips hesitantly to Erik's. At the first touch of Charles's lips to his Erik's cock twitched. The slight tremble made him swell and throb and when Charles' mouth began to move tentatively against his he couldn't prevent a deep gravelly moan from rising in his throat.

The boy pulled away, but the loss of contact was brief. Erik grabbed for him, tugging him by the waistband of his low slung jeans and working open the zipper.

"W… what are you doing?" Charles asked fearfully, his voice shaky.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Erik answered, sliding his hand inside the boys pants and roughly grasping his cock. Charles gasped loudly and tried to wriggle away but Erik's grip was firm.

"I… I thought… I was supposed to be a… a virgin when he…"

"You will be. I'm not going to fuck you. Not today."

"Then what…"

What indeed? What exactly was he going to do? He wasn't going to fuck the boy, as much as he wanted to. Shaw had paid for that privilege and as much as Erik hated it, he wouldn't back out of the deal because this was his business and his integrity was important, but he would be damned if he was going to let that bastard Shaw have every one of Charles' firsts. He was paying for a virgin mouth, a virgin ass, lips that had never tasted cum and hands that had never touched a cock other than his own, that was it. Even Shaw wouldn't expect his virgin never to have masturbated before, he wouldn't expect the boy's cock to be as untouched as the rest of him. Erik could work with that. He could have one first from Charles that Shaw wouldn't even have considered.

Erik looked deep into his eyes, holding his gaze as he slowly began to stroke the flesh that was now coming to life in his hand.

"I'm going to make you cum Charles."


	5. Chapter 5

At first Charles was sure he'd heard wrong. Lehnsherr hadn't just said what he thought he'd said, why would he? It didn't make any sense. None at all. And yet the man's hand _was_ inside his pants, his fingers _were_ curled around his shaft, stroking him and it didn't hurt like the previous touches had done, it didn't hurt the way Charles thought it should have, the way he wished it would. When Lehnsherr had touched him that first time it had been almost clinical, cold and rough and uncaring. He'd been inspecting a piece of meat, nothing more. This time it was different. This time it was slow and gentle and sensual and to his embarrassment, his body was responding to it. He didn't understand.

"Don't, please. Stop" He pleaded softly, squirming and pressing his hands firmly against the other man's chest in an attempt to push him away. "Stop. I don't want this, I don't…" He sucked in a deep breath and tried to ignore his growing arousal. Furious, as much at himself as he was at Lehnsherr, he shoved harder at the man's chest, not managing to free himself from his grip." "I said I didn't want this." He hissed angrily.

"It doesn't matter what you want Charles, or have you forgotten where you are and why you're here?" Lehnsherr asked, his hand never stopping it's teasing ministrations.

Charles snorted petulantly.

"How could I forget when you're always reminding…" His knees buckled as a thumb lightly brushed the tip of his penis and he made a grab for Lehnsherr's arm to steady himself. "Oh God." He moaned.

"Relax." Lehnsherr purred. "Don't fight me on this, just go with it."

Charles swallowed a small whimper and allowed himself to be manoeuvred backwards until he hit the wall, afraid of what might happen if he resisted. Lehnsherr's free hand tugged at the waistband of his jeans until they dropped off his hips and puddled around his ankles leaving him feeling more exposed now than when he first been dragged into this office, naked and in chains.

He could feel the man's eyes boring into him and he blushed furiously, squeezing his eyes shut as if he could somehow make everything go away by doing so. Lehnsherr's grip on him tightened painfully and he gasped, eyes flying open, immediately meeting the other man's intense gaze. He wanted to look away but he couldn't.

"Don't hide from this Charles. Don't hide from me."

"I.. I'm not… not hiding. I don't… I don't want this."

Again Lehnsherr's thumb swept over his sensitive flesh, dragging a low moan from his throat.

"Hmmm. Is that so?"Charles bit his lip and nodded.

"Because your body is telling me a different story altogether."

"I know what you're doing." Charles mumbled, clinging fiercely to what was left of his defiance and somehow managing to suppress another moan though his voice remained ragged. "This is… just another way to… to torture me. You want me to feel a… ashamed, but it won't… work. Any body would react to being touched…" He whimpered. "To being touched like this. It doesn't… doesn't mean anything." He said, not sounding nearly as convincing in his own mind as he would have liked.

Lehnsherr chuckled. The bastard actually chuckled. Charles wanted to punch him right in his smug face but he couldn't move.

"How very clever of you Charles. No doubt you learned a great deal from all of those medical texts you read before my men picked you up. It's rather a shame that they won't do you any good here." Charles half glared, through heavy lidded eyes. "You already know that what you want or don't want is of absolutely no consequence to me. And you can protest all you want but it won't change the fact that you're hard and aching for me and right now my hand on your cock feels better than anything you've ever imagined."

Charles flushed even deeper with shame as Lehnsherr's hand drew another ragged moan from his lips.

"It doesn't." He whimpered feebly.

"Admit it Charles."

"No." He shook his head. Lehnsherr's hand stopped teasing and set a firm, steady pace on his flesh, a light squeeze and a gentle flick of his wrist on each down stroke and a brush of his thumb across the tip on each upstroke, working Charles into a reluctant frenzy.

"Admit it."

"No."

"Admit it."

"I won't. I…" Another flick of the wrist and the hand that was working him so expertly began to move a little faster, a little harder and Charles was finding it more and more difficult to maintain his composure, his resistance. "Oh God… Yes." He murmured. "Yes."

"Say it Charles. I want to hear you say it."

Charles caught his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled lightly while he searched desperately for some word of denial but the pleasure being forced upon him was all he could think about, lust overpowering the hate and shame.

"It feels good." He moaned, hating the sound of his own voice in that moment. "So good."

"Good boy. I know how... _hard_ that must have been for you to say. Now tell me Charles… do you want to cum?" Charles nodded eagerly, unable to speak through his gasps and moans. "Then beg for me."

"W… What?"

"You heard. Beg for me. Beg me to let you cum. If you beg prettily enough I might take pity on you."

God, was there no end to the ways this man could torment him? Was there no end to his shame? Wasn't it enough that he'd driven him crazy with lust against his will? Wasn't it enough that he'd forced him to admit how good this unwanted touch really felt? Now he wanted him to beg for release too. Well he wouldn't do it, he couldn't. It was too much, too humiliating. Charles would not give the bastard the satisfaction, he'd rather be left aching.

"No." He rasped. "No." But then Lehnsherr's hand stilled abruptly and Charles knew that he wasn't strong enough to keep up his fight. To be brought so close to the edge and left unfulfilled more than ached, it was painful. It hurt in ways Charles couldn't even describe and he would to anything to find some relief from the agony of it, even beg if that's what it took. "Okay." He sobbed brokenly, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the look of triumph on his tormentors face and swallowing what was left of his pride. "I'm begging. Please. I need to… I… Please, let me cum. Please."

Lehnsherr grinned.

"Please what?"

"Please Sir." Suddenly the room became uncomfortably silent all barring the sound of his own harsh breathing and he opened his eyes to see the other man staring intently at him.

"Erik." The man whispered, his voice more than a little ragged itself and much softer than Charles had heard it before. "My name is Erik."Charles felt a shiver run the length of his spine and he gulped loudly. He shouldn't care what the man's name was, he knew that but now that he did know, he found it gave him a perverse thrill that he couldn't explain.

"Erik." He whispered, liking the way the name felt on his tongue far more than he knew he should. "Erik, please. It hurts. Please let me cum."

Erik gave him a barely perceptible nod and resumed his stroking at a more demanding pace than before, bringing Charles to climax in just seconds, his free hand finding Charles' hip and gripping it tightly, keeping him steady. Charles came hard, head thrown back against the wall, panting and shaking and spilling his release all over Erik's hand and Erik just held him firm until he rode out the last few tremors.

When their eyes met Charles was surprised to find Erik staring at him with the same intense look as before and not the smug satisfaction he'd expected. He held the gaze, not really sure why he didn't immediately look away but it didn't matter because seconds later it was gone.

Erik released his grip and stepped away from him, plucking the handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit jacket with his clean hand and using it to wipe the other.

"There are tissues on my desk." He said coolly, turning his back on Charles. "Clean yourself up and get out."

Bewildered by the sudden change in the other man's demeanour and by his own confused feelings, Charles quickly pulled up his jeans and grabbed a couple of tissues.

"Yes Sir." He mumbled, dabbing at the stray splashes of semen on his stomach and fighting the sudden urge to cry.

"Make sure you eat something substantial, and get some rest." Without a backwards glance, he pointed towards the computer screen which still displayed Sebastian Shaw's image. "You're going to need all the strength you can get tomorrow."

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


	6. Chapter 6

Charles stumbled from the office somewhat dazed, thoroughly confused and utterly miserable. He could still feel Erik's hand on him, could still hear his voice in his ear and it made him ache all over again. He didn't understand it at all. He didn't understand how it was possible to despise a man as much as he despised Lehnsherr and yet want him so badly at the same time, and he had wanted him. He'd tried to deny it. He'd tried to tell himself that it was an involuntary reaction to external physical stimuli, that he hadn't really enjoyed it, that he hadn't wanted it, but deep down he knew that was a lie. He'd wanted it, he just hadn't wanted to want it.

What did it say about him that in spite of the beatings and the lashes and the broken bones, he still wanted it? He was inexperienced but he totally naïve, he knew some people got off on pain and humiliation, he'd just never thought that he would be one of them. He still didn't, but then how else could he explain how he felt? How else could he explain that as sick and twisted as it was, every impulse in his body was screaming at him to march back into that office and demand… no, beg Erik for more? Maybe he was one of them after all.

Did Erik even know what he'd done to him, really done to him? Did he even care? Did it matter? No, it didn't, of course it didn't, it never would. Lehnsherr had made it abundantly clear that what he wanted was of absolutely no concern to him, that Charles was just a thing, a toy to be played with and then discarded when he broke.

He felt sick, to his stomach, tears burned his eyes. He still despised Lehnsherr and he wouldn't let that go, he couldn't if he wanted to hang on to what was left of his sanity. He couldn't let Lehnsherr see him that weak and needy ever again no matter what. He couldn't give in, he wouldn't give in, he would fight with every ounce of strength he had left to keep his desires hidden. But hiding from Lehnsherr was one thing, hiding from himself was another thing entirely. Charles wasn't sure he'd ever be fully able to do that.

Lost in the maelstrom of misery and self loathing and oblivious to his surroundings as he shuffled through the lounge area, Charles didn't even notice Sean's approach, just the feeling of a gentle hand on his arm and it startled him.

"Whoa, Charles, dude, chill, it's just me."

Charles blinked twice and tried to focus on the voice.

"Sean?"

"Uh… Yeah." Sean sort of smiled. "Who else? Come on, I haven't seen you in days and I've got some people I want you to meet." Charles allowed the redhead to drag him towards a low table in the corner and dropped down onto a couch without first checking there was actually anything but the floor underneath him.

"Charles, this is Alex and Angel. They were brought here like we were, about a year ago."

"Nice to meet you Charles."

Charles heard only a distant mumble. He didn't even bother to look up but he was vaguely aware of two other people at the table and he vaguely registered the fact that one of them was holding out a hand, but he couldn't quite remember how he was supposed to respond.

"Charles! Hey!" Sean clicked his fingers a couple of times and waved a hand in front of Charles face, drawing him out of his semi trance. "Are you okay? You look like shit."

"Huh?" Charles squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath, feeling only slightly more lucid when he opened his eyes again a moment later. "Yeah, I…" He glanced across the table at Sean's friends, a pretty dark haired girl and a blond guy, both probably older than him but not by much he didn't think. He couldn't remember their names. "Sorry." He mumbled apologetically, noticing that the blond guy was still holding out his hand. He extended his own hand and shook the other limply. "I didn't catch your name."

"Don't sweat it." The blond said with a grin. "I'm Alex. This is my girl, Angel." The dark haired girl held out her hand then and received the same limp handshake for her trouble.

Sean gave him a concerned frown.

"I saw you coming out of Lehnsherr's office. What the fuck did he do to you this time?"

Charles blushed furiously and stared down at his lap, studiously avoiding anyone's gaze as the memory hit him along with a fresh wave of shameful arousal.

_No no no. I can't let him know. I can't let anyone know._

"Nothing." He snapped. "Nothing. He didn't do anything."

Sean frowned again.

"Well, something must have happened because seriously man, you're wound so tight you look like you might snap at any second."

His fingers twiddled awkwardly in his lap and his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of his thoughts, to find an explanation less humilliating than the truth would be. Then he remembered. In all his confusion and pain he'd almost forgotten, the reason Lehnsherr had wanted to see him in the first place.

"I… M, my auction is ended. I'm… I'm going to…"Suddenly the tumult of emotion that had virtually crippled him before, all melted away to be replaced by fear. He couldn't finish his words, but it didn't matter, Sean understood.

"Oh Charles." He murmured softly, resting his hand gently upon Charles' knee. "I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't even think."

"Wait a minute. Auction?" Angel queried from across the table. "You're a virgin?"

Charles shrugged his shoulders and sniffed before mumbling miserably.

"Only until tomorrow."

"Damn!" Alex cut in. "Do you know who? Did he tell you?"

Charles nodded.

"Some guy named Shaw."

"Sebastian Shaw?"

"You know him?" He asked, finally looking up from his lap.

"I've had the… _pleasure _a couple of times yeah." The blond grimaced. "Fuck! Oh man I'm sorry, I… Fuck!"

Charles eyes went wide.

"Is he that bad?" He asked with a growing sense of panic. The uneasy look that passed between Alex and Angel then and the lack of any proper answer told Charles all he needed to know and his stomach lurched violently. He staggered from his seat and stumbled towards the foot of the stairs, mumbling not quite under his breath. "Raven. I have to get Raven."

"Who the Hell is Raven?" Angel asked.

"She's this little kid who got brought in by mistake when we did." Sean answered, clambering to his feet and following after Charles, Alex and Angel right behind him. "They were gonna sell her to this paedo guy and Charles got the shit beat out of him when he tried to defend her. I think Lehnsherr's using her to keep him in line now."

"Sick fucker." Alex hissed, following Sean up the stairs.

They caught up to Charles halfway down the hall.

"Charles slow down." Sean pleaded, making a grab for his friends arm.

"Let me go." Charles yelled, wrenching his arm out from Sean's grip. "I can't do this, I thought I could but I can't. I've got to get out of here, and I've got to take Raven with me before they hurt her too." He lunged forward and made another run for it, but Alex's long legs carried him quickly and Charles barely got two steps before Alex was in front of him blocking his way. "Get out of my way!" Charles barked angrily.

"I can't do that Charles."

"Please, Alex. I'm not like you and Angel and Sean. I can't take this, I'm not strong enough. I have to get away from here, I have to get Raven away from here." He shoved Alex hard in the chest but Alex was steady on his feet and didn't budge. Sean and Angel at his rear took an arm each and tried to pull him back but he resisted their efforts. "Please." He wailed.

"I'm sorry Charles, but there's no where to go. There _is_ no way out of this place."

"There has to be, there has to."

"There isn't. Trust me."

"How do you know huh? How do you know?" Charles was frantic, he didn't want to believe Alex.

"I know because I tried to escape once myself when I first got here!" Charles stared at him open mouthed, not sure if he was telling the truth or just a story to stop him fighting. "I failed. Obviously. But…" He sighed and shrugged off his shirt to reveal three small round scars on his shoulder the size of bullet wounds. "But I did get this lovely little souvenir of the attempt."

At the sight of the cluster of puckered scars and the realisation of what they meant, every ounce of strength Charles still had left, deserted him. His knees buckled and he sank to the carpet, burying his head in his hands and sobbing.

Sean dropped to his knees beside him and pulled his friend into his arms, rocking him gently and rubbing his back until his breathing returned to something a little closer to normal, while Alex and Angel watched with concern.

"Christ." Charles muttered hoarsely after some time, his voice still shaking, just as his body was. "This is really happening, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Sean answered quietly. "It's really happening."

Charles looked up at Alex and Angel.

"And Shaw…" He swallowed thickly. "He's going to hurt me, isn't he?" Alex sighed heavily and nodded his head. "Badly." It was a statement of understanding rather than a question."

"Sorry." Alex whispered.

"Oh God." A fresh swell of tears rose in Charles' eyes and tumbled uncontrollably down his cheeks.

Angel nudged Alex roughly in the ribs and he frowned hard at her. She nodded in Charles's direction then stood on her tiptoes and whispered something in his ear, to which Alex nodded back and reached into his pocket before taking a step forward and crouching in front of Charles. He glanced left and then right to make sure no one was watching and then hesitantly pressed something small into his hand.

"Here. Take this. It's from my personal stash."

"What is it?" Charles asked, wiping his eyes and staring down at his hand and the pill Alex had placed there.

"Just something that might help."

"What does it do?"

Alex bit his lip for a moment, then answered.

"I'm not gonna lie and tell you it'll stop the pain because it won't. What it _will_ do, is make it so you don't care."

Charles continued to stare at the tiny pink pill and wondered if that was even possible.

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** In the event that this story is deleted from here, you will also find it at yourfanfiction . com (no spaces, same authorname - **bloodsoakedleather**) so you can continue to read if the worst happens.

* * *

"I don't want it, I'm not hungry." Charles mumbled, pushing away the tray of food that Lehnsherr had sent up for him.

Azazel folded his arms across his chest and stared hard at the boy.

"Mr Lehnsherr says eat."Charles looked up, staring back at the Russian just as hard.

"I don't care what Mr Lehnsherr says." He grumbled petulantly. "I'm not hungry and I'm not eating this. You might as well just take it away now."

From the angry look that Azazel was giving him, Charles was pretty sure the man thought he was being deliberately difficult but he really wasn't. At least not entirely. He knew he _should_ eat, and despite the voice in the back of his head that kept telling him he shouldn't give in and he should fight them on every little thing, he knew he _did_ need to eat. The problem was that at present, just the thought of food made him feel violently ill.

_You're going to need all the strength you can get tomorrow_. Lehnsherr's words still rang loudly in his ears, reminding him in no uncertain terms of just what was going to happen to him tomorrow. He could think of nothing else now, not even Erik's hand on his body. He felt no shame, no confusion, just fear. Fear so strong he could barely breathe let alone eat.

The Russian's gaze held firm.

"You will do as you are told or you will be punished."

Charles choked back a silent sob and his shoulders slumped in defeat. _Fight! _The voice in his head said, and he wanted to, he really did but he was so tired of fighting, he was completely and utterly drained and he knew without a doubt that he didn't have the physical or emotional strength right now to survive another punishment. He was beaten… for now.

He eyed the plate anxiously and after a moment reached out a trembling hand and picked up the fork. His stomach churned as he pushed the pasta around the plate trying to quell the rising tide of nausea until an irritated growl from Azazel told him he couldn't put it off any longer. With a deep, ragged sigh he reluctantly speared a small morsel of the food with his fork and slowly brought it to his lips. He glanced over at Azazel, silently begging him but to no avail. Finally, unable to take the other man's glare any longer, he put the single pasta spiral in his mouth and started to chew. He chewed and chewed for what seemed like an eternity, rolling the pasta around and around on his tongue until at last he was able, albeit with some difficulty, to swallow.

It didn't stay down. He'd known that it wouldn't. Almost immediately he gagged, diving off the bed and stumbling towards the small adjoining bathroom, just barely reaching the toilet in time before he was throwing up the meagre contents of his stomach until all that was left was bile and acid. Still retching, he sank to his knees and rested his head on his hands.

"I'm sorry." He sobbed brokenly. "I'm sorry. I can't. I tried but I can't." He looked up at the Russian, tears rolling down his cheeks, pleading desperately. "You'll tell him I tried won't you. You saw me, I really tried, I just couldn't. Please don't punish me again. Please."

Azazel said nothing, just grunted non committaly and left.

An hour later, when Charles was finally able to drag himself out of the bathroom and back to the bed, and the expected punishment had not come, Charles surmised that Azazel _had_ told Lehnsherr that he'd tried and that Lehnsherr had believed him. It was little comfort.

* * *

Sleep did not come easy that night. The very same thing that had kept Charles from eating, also kept him awake. In spite of the sheer physical exhaustion, he was afraid to close his eyes. He tried so hard not to think about it but his mind was racing with a hundred and one different scenarios for what Sebastian Shaw would do to him, each one more painful and more humiliating than the last and yet somehow he knew that however terrible he imagined it would be, the reality would probably be much worse.

Charles met the morning with equal parts relief and trepidation. Relief that by tomorrow it would all be over and done with but desperately afraid that he wouldn't actually survive it.

Slowly he dragged his tired body and heavy limbs out of bed and shuffled gracelessly towards the bathroom where he performed his morning ablutions on autopilot. Staring at his reflection in the mirror while he brushed his teeth he couldn't help but notice the hollow cheeks, dark circles and puffy, red rimmed eyes that stared back. He was a mess he thought, contemplating the possibility that looking like he did now, maybe Shaw would decide he didn't want him after all. Then he wondered idly if maybe there would be some sort of punishment for not looking pretty enough and he couldn't prevent the morbid laugh that escaped.

Walking back into the bedroom wearing only a towel, he found Azazel waiting for him, leering at his near naked body. He ignored it.

"You will meet Mr Shaw at Four-thirty. I will come for you at four." The Russian stated flatly, depositing on the bed, a tray of breakfast that Charles felt no more able to eat than last night's supper.

"What time is it now?" He asked timidly.

Azazel checked his watch.

"Seven-forty-five." He answered then turned and left the room.

Charles did the math in his head. Seven-forty-five to four-thirty. That was almost nine hours. Nine hours in which he'd have nothing to do but wait and worry and think and work himself into a state of panic. Shit!

* * *

At approximately five minutes to four, Charles found himself perched uneasily atop the closed toilet seat, staring down at his hand and at the pill that Alex had given him yesterday. _It won't stop it hurting, but it'll make it so that you don't care_. That's what he'd told him. Charles wasn't exactly sure how that was possible or even if it was. As a former medical student his knowledge of recreational drugs was limited to the clinical descriptions of what happens to a body when it overdoses and physiological side effects of long term substance abuse. He knew nothing about how they made the user feel or why someone would want to use them. At least… he _hadn't_. Now he thought he was beginning to understand.

It was all about escaping. Escaping from the boredom or banality of horror or misery or utter hopelessness of your life. His life, he realised belatedly. His life, that had once been so happy and full of hopes and dreams had now become something from which he longed to escape.

Could this tiny pink pill really do that for him? Even just for a little while? Alex certainly thought so and he seemed like he would know about these things. Maybe he should stop thinking so much about it and just take the thing. What could it hurt now anyway? It wasn't like he had a bright future ahead of him to throw away. Not anymore.

Mind made up he walked over to the sink, turned on the tap and filled the tumbler with water. With one last look he raised the pill to his lips and… hesitated. Was he really prepared to go down this road? Suddenly, he wasn't so certain. He squeezed his eyes shut and took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself enough that he could think.

When the bathroom door swung open unexpectedly, Charles jumped half out of his skin. His shoulders jerked sharply, causing his grip to falter and he watched in dismay as the pill slipped from between his fingers, rolled down the inside of the sink and dropped through the plug hole. _Dilemma solved _he though miserably and looked up to see Azazel standing in the doorway.

"It is time."

Charles' stomach dropped.

* * *

He wasn't surprised that he'd been taken to see Raven before meeting Shaw. Of course they would want him to see her. She was his reminder to behave, to submit to the man's every desire, no matter how vicious or depraved. If he didn't, if Shaw wasn't pleased with him, she would suffer and they knew he wouldn't let that happen. In spite of the underlying threat that tainted each of their meetings, Charles was glad to be able to be able to spend five minutes with the little girl he was coming to care for as a sister. She gave him courage, strengthened the resolve he thought he'd lost. He would get through this. Whatever Shaw did to him, he would survive. Somehow he would survive everything that was thrown at him, today, tomorrow, for the rest of his life. He had to.

* * *

At four-thirty precisely, if he'd had a watch to check, Charles was shoved unceremoniously through a door in an area of the building he'd never been before. Azazel dragged him, rather more forcefully than was needed seeing as how he was complying without argument, across the room and presented him to the man he recognised immediately from his photo as Sebastian Shaw.

"Enjoy." The Russian said with an unpleasant smirk, which Shaw returned.

"Oh, I will Azazel. Thank you. And tell Erik I'll speak with him later."

Azazel nodded his acknowlegement and left, closing the door behind him. Charles stood as still as he could, head bowed, waiting.

"Well, Charles." Shaw said at last, placing a finger under his chin and lifting his face. "I must say, your photograph doesn't do you justice." Charles bit his lip nervously, unsure if he was supposed to say anything to that or not. Apparently not, since Shaw offered no admonishment before continuing to speak. "Strip!" He ordered. "Let me get a better look at you."

"Yes Sir." Charles whispered and with shaky hands he did as he was told, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders and unbuttoning his jeans, stepping out of them and kicking them to one side when they fell around his ankles. Naked now and totally exposed, the shiver than ran through him had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the hard cruel eyes that raked over his nude body. Shaw gestured silently for him to turn round which he did slowly. He could feel those eyes boring into his skin and it made his flesh crawl.

"Very nice." Shaw said, reaching out to grab a bare buttock and giving it a hard squeeze that was sure to leave a bruise. One of many Charles suspected, biting back a soft yelp. The hand moved to his hip, gripping it tightly and spun him round so that they were once again facing. For a few moments Shaw just looked at him. Charles' fears grew. "You're shaking." He said at last. "Are you scared of me boy?"

Charles gave a shallow nod and murmured…

"Yes."

Shaw seemed pleased with the answer.

"And so you should be. Now… Get on your knees."

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** A reminder, once again, that if this fic ends up being deleted from here, you will also find it at _yourfanfiction . com_ (no spaces, same author name - **bloodsoakedleather**)

**Warning:** There be het ahead, but only a little bit :)

* * *

Shaw's hands on his shoulders, pushing down roughly, forced Charles' compliance without giving him a chance to offer it. He hit his knees with a soft grunt.

"Unzip me." The man ordered. Sick with nerves and too afraid to refuse, Charles did as he was told, his shaking fingers making much more of the task than should have been necessary which only made him more nervous and fearful. He bit his lip and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He had to do this, he had to do everything he was told to do and he had to do it well, he had to please this man in every way. Christ, if he couldn't even unzip the man's fly efficiently what chance did he have with whatever else Sebastian Shaw had planned for him? When the fly was open Charles waited obediently for his next order. "Now take my cock out." Charles slipped his slender hand through the opening in the other man's pants, flinching slightly when he felt the hot, hard flesh against his open palm. Until now the only penis he had ever touched had been his own and while it didn't feel entirely unpleasant physically, mentally it was devastating to him because he couldn't forget where he was or what he was to become and it shouldn't be like this, he didn't deserve this. No one did.

Fighting back a small sob, he carefully wrapped his fingers around the throbbing shaft and tugged it free of it's cloth confines. Up close it looked huge and quite terrifying. It was full and heavy and lined all around with thick ropey veins that twitched and pulsed and the swollen head was shiny, deep purplish in colour and leaking profusely.

Repulsed just by the sight of it, Charles suppressed a violent shudder and licked his lips in preparation for what he knew was about to come. The wait was torturous, he wanted nothing more than to get this over with as quickly as possible but Shaw it seemed was intent on drawing it out until Charles was on the verge of begging. Was that what the man wanted? For him to beg for it? It was what Erik had wanted, but this man hadn't said anything, so he bit his tongue and continued to wait. At last the order came and Charles obeyed with a curious mix of relief and reluctance.

"Open your fucking mouth whore!"

* * *

Erik had been in a foul mood all day which was nothing unusual under the circumstances, Shaw's presence in his establishment always put him on edge and made him irritable and tetchy but today, for reasons he flatly refused to even think about, today it was worse than usual. Much worse. In order to keep his mind occupied he busied himself with the growing stack of paperwork and minor issues, the kind that usually got brushed to one side in favour of more pressing matters until they themselves became the pressing matters.

"I'm tired of your excuses." He barked down the phone at some poor unfortunate staff member who's name he couldn't even remember. "Just fucking do it or you will find your employment here terminated, do you understand?" The threat in his voice was clear and the voice on the other end confirmed that he most definitely did understand. "Good!" He growled, slamming the phone down hard and sucking in a long, deep breath. It did little to ease his tension.

He looked down at his hand and realised he was shaking, he was actually shaking. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been wound so goddamned fucking tight he shook. _Shit!_ He needed to release some of this frustration before he snapped and did something he'd regret, something that would be a huge pain in the ass to cover up.

He reached for the phone again and called Azazel.

"Have someone sent to my office. Now." He demanded. "No, I don't have a preference, just send anyone." He was about to put the phone down but then changed his mind. "No, wait." He said, ignoring what his sub conscious mind was telling him. "Blonde, female… Missy will be perfect."

* * *

Despite his best efforts, Charles was still unprepared when Shaw grabbed a fistful of his hair, tilted his head slightly and thrust his engorged cock roughly into his mouth. He hit the back of Charles' throat immediately, making the younger man gag and retch violently. Instinctively he tried to pull back, even as his brain screamed at him to be still and let it happen, but Shaw's hand in his hair held him firmly in place.

"Stop fucking moving and take it, bitch." He snarled continuing to thrust, harder and deeper, pushing his cock further down Charles' throat each time until his nose was buried in the fabric of his pants and the zip tag of his fly was digging into Charles's bottom lip. "Oh yeah, that's it, take it all, fucking choke on it." Shaw groaned, fisting his hand even tighter in Charles hair to the point where Charles thought he might actually tear it from his scalp.

It hurt. It hurt more than Charles could ever have imagined and tears streamed unchecked down his cheeks. His mouth and jaw ached from being stretched so wide, his throat was sore and swollen from the battering it was taking and each time he retched his mouth filled with saliva he wasn't able to swallow and dribbled down his chin. He couldn't breath properly, only through his nose, only between thrusts, and only shallow. It was barely enough to keep him conscious.

* * *

Erik leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, head tilted back while Missy, or Mystique as she had been know in the club where she worked before Erik's goons had picked her up, was on her knees between his outstretched legs bobbing her head enthusiastically in his lap. He tangled his fingers in her long blonde hair as he guided her movements, her lips sliding effortlessly up and down the length of his cock, making obscene slurping sounds as he did so. She swirled her tongue around the head on the upstroke and then plunged back down again making Erik moan loudly and buck his hips.

This girl knew her way around a cock that was for sure, all the male clients said so, but as much as Erik was enjoying her mouth on him, he needed more.

"Enough." He hissed, yanking her head back by the hair. She let out a muffled yelp and his cock slipped from her mouth with a wet plop. "Bend over." He ordered. "I'm going to fuck you."

"Yes sir." She said, shimmying out of her panties as she stood up, and hiking her short skirt up around her waist before bending over and gripping the edge of the desk. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled coquettishly at him, wiggling her ass and spreading her legs as far as she could to bare her wet, well fucked pussy for him.

"Very nice." He muttered as he stood, giving his cock a few quick tugs before settling behind her and pushing inside.

* * *

Lack of air was making Charles dizzy and light headed and he began to hope that maybe he would pass out soon after all but Shaw was not that merciful. For Charles, it seemed to go on forever and the end seemed agonisingly far away but eventually Shaw slowed his assault and pulled out. Charles near collapsed, desperately gasping for breath and sucking in huge lungfuls of air.

"Good boy." Shaw praised, petting his hair like a dog. "You're really very good at that. I shall definitely be using that mouth again later." As sick as that thought made Charles, he was just glad for Raven's sake that Shaw was pleased with him. "But right now there's something else I want to do. I think you know what that is don't you boy?" Charles nodded miserably, his swollen throat keeping his sob from escaping. "Go and kneel on that bench and stick your ass in the air."

"Yes sir." Charles whispered, shaking all over as he got into position. He heard Shaw moving behind him and after a few moments and hand came to rest gently in the small of his back. A finger trailed between his rounded cheeks, teasing his entrance before pressing inside. Charles winced at the intrusion, uncomfortable more than it was painful.

"Mmmm. So very tight." Shaw purred, making his flesh crawl. The finger vanished and Shaw bent down, his breath hot against Charles' ear. "But not for much longer though Charles. I am going to rip you apart."

* * *

**Coming up:** It just gets worse for Charles.

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** As previously mentioned, this story and all of my other stories can now also be found at _yourfanfiction . com_ (no spaces, same author name - **bloodsoakedleather**) so in the event that I get deleted from here, you can still continue to read them over there.

**A/N:** Apologies in advance to the squeamish but you already knew this chapter wasn't going to be nice.

* * *

_I am going to rip you apart._

Charles heard the words, loud and clear but he had no time to process them, to understand them.

_I am going to rip you apart._

Barely had the last word left Shaw's lips before he was behind Charles, fingers digging into his slender hips with a vice-like grip and forcing his engorged, saliva slicked length into Charles' unprepared and unwilling body.

_I am going to rip you apart._

Charles screamed, long and loud, his already abused throat protesting the sound but unable to hold it back. It hurt, God it hurt. He'd known that it would, that it would be bad, that it would be worse than anything he'd ever felt before but this pain was beyond any agony he could ever have imagined. It was searing and intense and unrelenting. Shaw was unrelenting as he started in at a frantic pace without giving Charles any time to adjust or even to breathe. He fucked him mercilessly, each thrust hard and deep and vicious and Charles could feel it in his gut, in his kidneys, in his lungs, every single part of him, his whole body, was crying out in pain.

Shaw groaned deeply, fingers like claws digging even harder into the tender flesh of Charles' hips, driving himself even deeper.

Charles screamed again, longer and louder than before, choking on the sound as it stole his breath and left him gasping, unable to suck in enough air to sustain it _and_ himself. His sagged in defeat. Mentally he fell forward, unable to keep himself on his knees but Shaw's grip was tight and he was pulling him so hard that he couldn't move, not even to collapse. All he could do was hang his head and sob wretchedly as his rape continued, praying the whole time for it to be over soon.

But it wouldn't be over, it would never be over and Charles knew it. After Shaw, there would be somebody else, and somebody else after that. This was his life now. This was what he had to look forward to, to be raped repeatedly by an endless stream of somebody else's, day after day for the rest of his life until his body just couldn't take it anymore and gave up.

He wanted to die, he wished for it, he didn't care if it was slow and painful, he just wanted to not be alive anymore. Right now in this moment he prayed that this cruel, sadistic man who had paid so much money to abuse him would rape him to death and be done with it so that he wouldn't have to feel any more, so he wouldn't have to be afraid, so he wouldn't have to remember.

Too tired and too broken to scream anymore, Charles went limp beneath Shaw's hands and cried silently with what little energy he had left until a particularly violent thrust tore yet another painful scream from his throat.

"Yes." Shaw hissed releasing one hand from Charles' hip and fisting it in his hair. "That's it, scream for me Charles." He yanked Charles head back roughly, lifting his upper body so that his back was pressed against Shaw's chest and his head against his shoulder. "You scream so prettily, it's like music to my ears." Without warning he bit down hard on Charles' shoulder, sinking his teeth into to the younger man's soft flesh tearing at the pale and delicate skin there until tiny speckles of blood began to bead on the surface.

Each thrust then was accompanied by another savage bite and Charles screamed, just like the man wanted, screamed until his throat bled and his chest ached. He couldn't stop screaming.

* * *

Erik fucked Missy slow and deep. Bent at the waist his chest was pressed against her back, his arms wrapped around her torso, one hand groping at her breasts, teasing and pinching at her nipples, the other between her legs, his thumb rubbing circles over her swollen clit making her moan and writhe on his cock.

"Harder." She whined, pushing back against him. "Fuck me harder Sir. You know you want to."

Oh yes, there was a reason why Missy was one of his most popular girls. Unlike the others, she enjoyed her job, took pride in it, she knew how to read a man, or a woman, could sense their needs and mould herself accordingly. Shy and innocent, wanton and whorish, playful, resistant, dominant, submissive, she could do them all… and do them well. And right now she could sense that all Erik wanted or needed was a quick, hard fuck to relieve some tension so that's what she offered him.

"Come on Sir." She moaned. "Give it to me hard, make it hurt. Make it hurt good."

Erik let out a ragged groan and closed his eyes, his hands abandoning her tits and pussy, grasping instead at her hips as he quickened his pace, thrusting into her roughly until she cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

After that it didn't take long for Erik to start feeling that familiar tingling sensation in his balls. Just a few more thrusts, harsh and erratic and he was cumming hard, eyes still tightly closed, teeth tugging at his bottom lip to keep from calling out a name that wasn't Missy. For a few minutes neither of them moved, just stayed still, catching their breath.

"Damn, I needed that." He rasped eventually.

"Glad to be of service Sir." She answered with a breathy chuckle. Erik gave a small chuckle of his own and pulled out of her, slapping her ass lightly.

"Go, get yourself cleaned up and get back to work." He told her, reaching for the tissues on his desk and cleaning himself off before tucking his softening dick back in his pants.

"Yes Sir." Missy picked up her discarded panties and used them to mop up the worst of the mess between her legs before hurrying out the door.

Erik flopped down in his chair after she was gone and half sighed, half smiled. He did feel better now. Not great, but better, at least he didn't feel murderous anymore. He looked at the stack of papers on his desk and thought to himself that now perhaps he'd be able to get some work done. It took him barely twenty minutes before he was looking at his watch and wondering if Shaw was finished with Charles yet.

* * *

When at last Shaw finally came, hard and fast and deep inside him, Charles thought his torment was over but he was wrong. He collapsed, exhausted against the bench and now that he was able to suck in some much needed air, he did, hissing in pain as he felt the other man drag his still thick cock from his body and shuddering in disgust as he felt the semen leaking from his hole and trickling down the inside of his thighs. The cool air in the room did nothing to soothe the burn and sting where his flesh had been grazed and torn, if anything it made it worse, made him more aware.

"Fuck." He heard the other man groan behind him. "Fuck that was good. And you look so damn hot like that, spread wide open and gaping with your ass full of my cum. I could fuck you again right now."

_No. _Charles begged silently. _Not again, please not again._

"Not again, please." He sobbed, out loud this time, not wanting to but not being able to keep the plea from leaving his lips.

Shaw, who was standing in front of him now, slapped him hard across the face, leaving a vivid red mark.

"I didn't tell you you could speak did I?"

Charles shook his head, afraid to even say _No Sir _in case it earned him another slap… or worse.

"No, I didn't." He glared at Charles for a moment. "I think you need something else to do with that mouth of yours before you get yourself in more trouble." Shaw grabbed his cock, slightly less tumescent now but still thick and swollen and sticky with the evidence of what he'd just done, and presented it to Charles, smearing the tip against Charles' lips. "Suck it clean, whore." He ordered, grabbing his chin and pinching his nose so he had no choice but to open his mouth and take it again.

Almost instantly, Charles began to wretch. Shaw tasted of cum and blood and faeces and Charles had to swallow his own vomit, just blood and saliva mixed with stomach acid, to continue. He swirled his tongue around the head and moved his lips slowly up and down the best he could, licking and sucking the offending member clean, horrified to feel it swelling once more on his tongue

_Again. _He thought miserably. _He's going to rape me again. Dear God, please let me die now._

"So good." Shaw moaned as Charles mouth worked him back to full hardness while tears streamed down his face. "So fucking good. I'm almost tempted to let you finish me off like this, to cum in your mouth and have you swallow it." Charles gagged at the thought, but as repulsive as it was, as sick to his stomach as it made him feel, he'd rather that than the alternative. "But I'm not going to. I'm going to have that sweet ass of yours again instead." He shifted his hips a little and his cock slipped from between Charles' lips with a wet slurping sound. "Turn around, lay on your back and spread your legs."

Charles obeyed weakly, he barely had the energy or the will to breathe let alone move and each movement he did make was agony but he struggled against the pain and did as he was told, knowing that if he made the man angry he would likely find himself in even more pain.

Laying naked on his back with his legs spread, he felt more exposed and more vulnerable than ever. His own penis lay small and limp and uninterested in the crease of his groin and the way Shaw leered at him from above as he took it in his hand made him burn with humiliation.

"Tsk tsk Charles." He sneered giving it a sharp tug. "Anybody would think you weren't enjoying yourself." He laughed cruelly, releasing Charles' penis from his grasp and trailed his hand lower, across his balls to his ass. Charles flinched at the feeling, he couldn't help himself, he was already torn and bleeding and so sore that even the lightest of touches was torture

_No, please. _He cried quietly, biting back a plea for mercy and fighting to remain still and not squirm as Shaw's thumbs traced patterns over and around his abused opening. He whimpered softly and bit down hard on his lip as the other man pushed first one large thumb then the other into him, stretching him, tearing him, holding him open. He tried hard to stay focussed and breathe through the pain but when Shaw's cock joined his thumbs it was more than Charles could stand. His back arched, his head fell back and he screamed. He screamed until he couldn't scream anymore and his body began to shut down. He became limp and pliant, a rag doll under Shaw's assault, no longer caring about what was happening to him. He just lay there, weeping silent tears, taking everything that Shaw gave him, feeling everything, but showing nothing.

This time when Shaw came, he pulled out and shot his load all over Charles' naked body, moaning and panting and shaking from the force of his own climax and eyeing the younger man with a sick grin, seemingly pleased that he had broken him.

"I'm not done with you yet." He growled, pulling the faintest of reactions from Charles, the briefest glimmer of almost paralyzing fear in his eyes.

After scooping up a little of the rapidly cooling semen that decorated Charles' skin, Shaw's thumbs went to work again, pulling, stretching, tearing. Charles didn't make a sound. Fingers joined thumbs, one, two, three, four, in quick succession, curling and twisting and stabbing at his insides until they were knuckle deep. Still Charles made no sound. After all that he'd been through at Shaw's hands, after all he had endured, after all he'd suffered, was still suffering, there were no screams left in him. So he thought.

Shaw's fingers continued to stab viciously at him, continued to twist and stretch and tear, until they achieved their goal. When Shaw's knuckles breached his opening and made a fist inside him, his whole body convulsed violently as pain exploded from every single nerve ending, and Charles found then that he had one more scream left. Strangled and hoarse and barely audible but a scream none the less.

A scream cut short. Mercy at last, for Charles had finally passed out.

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** This story and all my other stories can also be found at _yourfanfiction . com_ (no spaces, same author name - **bloodsoakedleather**) so in the event that this site decides to delete me, you can still continue reading.

* * *

Erik was almost finished for the day. He was tired and irritable, still, and he wanted nothing more than to put the day behind him and relax in his suite with a large glass of scotch and porn on the TV. The idea of company didn't appeal to him, he would satisfy himself this evening. He took one final look at the document in front of him, added his signature to the bottom then leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh, relieved to be done. After tucking the document inside a folder and slipping into his desk drawer, he turned off his computer and stood up.

He hadn't taken more than two or three steps when the phone rang, loud and shrill in the low buzz of the early evening. He groaned in frustration and glared at the offending object on his desk as he contemplated whether or not to ignore it. It continued to ring and after a moment he decided ignoring it wasn't an option. What if there was some kind of emergency that required his immediate attention? The downside of being the business owner, your free time is never really truly free.

"This had better be important." He snapped after a moment as he held the phone to his ear.

"It is." Hank's voice replied. "You need to come to the infirmary ASAP."

"Why? What's happened?"

He heard Hank growl before he gave his answer.

"Sebastian fucking Shaw happened!"

* * *

He moved quickly through the building, navigating the maze of corridors with ease, glad the _traffic_ was light this evening. The infirmary was an area Erik rarely visited but the mention of Shaw's name had given him a distinctively uneasy feeling that though he was unwilling to analyse too closely, he was unable to deny.

"Where is he?" He demanded loudly, bursting through the door.

Hank was busy examining the contents of a medicine cabinet, and he grabbed a tube of something quickly before turning round and giving Erik a critical glare. Erik ignored the look for now.

"Over here." Hank said, leading him towards a small private cubicle at the far end of the room. He pulled back the curtain and stepped inside, gesturing for the other man to come closer. Charles was laying face down on the bed, naked, save for a thin sheet that covered him from the waist down, and unconscious. He was covered in cuts and scratches and bruises. Bile rose unbidden in Erik's throat but he swallowed it down. I had a couple of my guys on standby, just in case." He said, almost accusingly. "He was barely conscious when we found him, but he woke up screaming the second I touched him. I had to sedate him just to get him here."

"What's wrong with him?" Erik's voice betrayed nothing more than a professional concern. "Other than the obvious."

"It'd probably be easier to tell you what's not wrong with him." Hank sighed. "Besides the obvious surface abrasions…" Gently he turned Charles' head slightly to the side so that Erik could see the curve of his neck. "He has a large cluster of bite marks on his neck and upper shoulder, some of which have broken the skin. The lining of his throat has some grazes and tears and there is bruising and swelling to the middle section of his pharynx and his epiglottis consistent with overly aggressive oral sex. He's suffering adductor strain probably as a result of having his legs forced apart and he was penetrated by something considerably larger than a penis, most likely a fist and judging by the extent of his injuries it wasn't done at all carefully. There's severe rectal trauma, recto sigmoid perforations, mucosal lacerations, you name it. Some of them serious enough to need stitches and I've given him antibiotics in case of infection." He was silent for a moment. "The guy tore him to pieces Erik. Jesus Christ! I swear, every time that man shows his face I end up with at least one kid in here that can't be fixed with a couple of paracetamol and a decent night's sleep. Why the Hell do you keep letting him come back? Why do you keep letting him do things like this to these poor kids?"

"Because he pays me well."

"He pays you well huh? Well I hope he paid you better than usual this time because this kid isn't going to be working for a long time."

Erik snorted.

"I assure you Hank, it was more than enough to compensate for the loss of earnings."

"Loss of…? I can't believe you." Hanks hissed, shaking his head in disbelief. "This kid just got raped half to death and all you're worried about is money? You're disgusting, you know that right?"

Erik raised an eyebrow and fixed the doctor with an angry stare.

"You work in the sex trafficking business Hank." He snapped. "So please, spare me your moral indignation, it doesn't suit you."

Hank muttered something under his breath and turned his back, putting the tube he had retrieved from the cabinet earlier on the table beside Charles' bed.

"I don't know why I put up with you." He added.

"Really? I was under the impression it was because the real world considered you unfit to continue practising medicine and I'm the only one who would give you a job."

The doctor's shoulders tensed visibly, Erik's words had hit a nerve and he had no reasonable comeback.

"You're an asshole." He muttered irritably.

"We're all assholes. Just tell me how long we're looking at. When can I put him back to work?"

Another insult formed on Hank's tongue but he wisely bit it back.

"I'm not sure. It depends on how quickly he heals. About ten days or so before he'll be able to perform fellatio, maybe longer and at least double that for anal intercourse, unless someone else is on the receiving end of course. Cunnilingus and vaginal intercourse…" He shrugged his shoulders. "A couple of days but I'd recommend at least a week, just to let him regain his strength. If he's too weak it'll affect the rate his other injuries heal."

"Thank you Doctor. Your recommendation has been duly noted."

"Good. Right. Well… That's it. There's nothing else I can tell you so…"

"Are you throwing me out Doctor?"

"I'm saying there's no reason for you to hang around. And I still have antibiotic ointment I want to apply to the wounds, as an added precaution."

Erik didn't move. He stared at the doctor for a moment then he stared down at Charles. After several seconds he held out his hand, gesturing for the doctor to hand over the tube of ointment.

"I'll do it." He said, his gaze fixed upon the small broken body on the bed.

"Sorry?" Hank seemed surprised.

"I said, I'll do it." Erik repeated.

"I don't think…"

"Oh for God sake Hank, it's just ointment. I've applied ointment before, I think I'm up to the task."

"Yes but, this is a little more delicate than just carpet burns or…"

"Hank!" Erik growled and Hank gave up his protest.

"Fine." He said reluctantly, passing the tube to the other man and slapping it hard into the palm of his outstretched hand. "Just the places where the skin is broken. The bite marks on his shoulder and his…"

"Yes yes, I know where. Now why don't you go and get yourself something to eat, or a cup of coffee or something?"

In all honesty, he was not at all comfortable leaving Erik alone with Charles but as despicable as the man was, Hank didn't think he would do the boy any harm. He was a business man after all and it was in his best interests to make sure Charles healed quickly and got back to work. He grimaced slightly, then shook the thought from his mind and headed towards the door.

"The sedatives I gave him shouldn't wear off for another couple of hours." He said, stopping with his hand hovering above the door handle. "But I'll be back in around thirty minutes anyway." And then he left.

Alone now, Erik took his time to really examine the boy on the bed. Even like this Charles was still breathtakingly beautiful, still so very tempting. Even so, the marks that covered the fragile body bothered him deeply. They should be his marks, he thought, not Shaw's. It should have been his fingers digging into the soft flesh, his teeth nipping at the delicate skin, his cock tearing him open. Charles's screams should have been for him, they should have been screams of pleasure mixed with pain, not pain alone. His lips curled into a snarl as he thought about Shaw. Oh how he would love to see the man on his knees, naked and bloody and begging for mercy as Charles must surely have done. How he would love take Charles hard and fast in front of him, to have him writhing and bucking and crying out in ecstasy as Erik claimed him, marked him as his property, making it clear that Charles belonged to him and that Shaw would never get to touch him again.

He grunted softly and shook the thoughts from his head. He would have Charles soon enough. Soon Charles would carry Erik's mark and _everyone_ would know who he belonged to. Until then though, Charles needed to heal and Erik was going to see to it that he did.

He washed and dried his hands at a nearby sink and put on a pair of surgical gloves then picked up the tube and flipped open the lid, squeezing a generous amount of the ointment to his fingers and gently rubbing it into the boys shoulder where the bite marks were. When he was done with that he removed his gloves, washed his hands again and put on a fresh pair, then carefully slid the sheet that covered Charles' lower body down to the middle of his thighs. He winced at the sight, and swallowed another wave of bile before squeezing out more of the ointment, and with more tenderness and care than most would have thought him capable of, set about applying it to Charles more severe wounds.

When he'd finished he carefully covered his patient with the sheet again, dropped the soiled gloves into the bin and washed his hands for a third time before pulling up a chair and sitting down beside the bed to wait for Hank.

* * *

**A/N:** Coming up, Charles finally feels something good.

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Still looking for somewhere else to host my stories as it's looking likely that _yourfanfiction . com_ might have to close due to lack of donations. I will keep posting there as long as I'm able though, and just so as everyone knows, I won't stop posting here unless I'm deleted.

* * *

For the first three days that he was in the infirmary, Charles was kept under almost constant sedation and when he did wake, he woke screaming. The pain was unbearable, his whole body hurt. Every muscle and every inch of flesh felt like it was on fire and inside he burned with shame and humiliation. He could still feel Shaw's hands and teeth against his skin, could still feel each squeeze and each bite, he could still feel Shaw inside him, pounding and tearing, he could still feel… everything.

He would be vaguely aware of other people bustling around him, footsteps, rattling trolleys, banging doors and hushed conversations that never seemed to be about anything other than rhubarb. Above all of that a firm but distance voice would ask… _"Do you remember your name? Can you tell me your date of birth? Do you know where you are_?" And Charles mould mumble his answers as best he could between howls of pain, wretched sobs and incoherent pleas to be put out of his misery before the doctor finally took pity and sedated him once again.

By the forth day, the physical pain had begun to fade and the doctor told him he didn't need to be sedated anymore. Charles disagreed and begged to be sedated permanently, crying himself into a fitful sleep when his pleas were refused

* * *

"Hey Doc, I think he's awake." A familiar voice called out from the bedside as he slowly started to stir.

Charles rolled his head to one side with a low groan and cracked open one bruised and tear swollen eye.

"Sean?" He rasped, seeing the other boy in the seat beside his bed.

"The one and only." Sean flashed him a sad smile. "Do you need anything, a drink or…?"

"Water."

"Yeah, sure." The redhead reached for a bottle on the bedside table, uncapped it, popped in a straw and held it to Charles' lips. Charles tilted his head so he could capture the end of the straw and took a slow sip. "Take it easy or you'll make yourself sick." Sean warned, his voice heavy with concern. Charles released the straw and dropped his head back into the pillow with a small splutter and another groan. Sean was silent for a moment before asking. "So, how do you feel?" And then apologising in the same breath. "Sorry, that was a dumb question."

The doctor appeared at his other side then and picked up his wrist to take his pulse. Charles flinched at the touch, the feeling of the doctors hands on his skin taking him to a dark place in his memory, causing a new wave of panic to course through his body and a strangled whimper to leave his lips. The doctor looked at him apologetically.

"I wish I was dead." Charles whispered hoarsely.

Sean frowned hard at him and he turned his head, unable to hold his gaze.

"Don't say that. Don't ever say that. Please."

"Did you know Charles…" The doctor interjected, breaking the sudden, almost painful tension. "That Sean has been here to see you every day?"

"He has?"

The doctor nodded.

"Sometimes more than once." Pulse now taken and results written on a chart, the doctor left the bedside, to both boy's relief.

"Really? Every day?" Charles stared curiously at Sean.

Sean blushed furiously under Charles's gaze.

"Lehnsherr said it would be okay just so long as I didn't miss any appointments. I had to blow him first though." He said, wrinkling his nose slightly in disgust.

Now it was Charles' turn to frown.

"You shouldn't have done that for me. I'm not worth it."

"You're worth it to me. You're my friend. And anyway, it's no big deal. It not like I've never sucked dick before." He added.

"But…"

"No buts. I wanted to do it. Well, I didn't _want _to do it but… Ah, you know what I mean." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled awkwardly. "I just wanted to be here for you. So you'd know you weren't alone and that someone cared."

Charles sucked in his top lip and nibbled it lightly, the swelling and soreness temporarilly forgotten. Slowly, carefully he stretched his arm out a little way so the tips of his fingers were brushing gently against Sean's. The red haired boy's blush deepened, colouring his freckles a darker shade of orange than usual. His fingers twitched against Charles' and he lowered his gaze to where they were touching.

"Thank you." Charles said softly, stretching his arm a little more so that their fingers were laced loosely together. "That means a lot to me."

"You're welcome." Sean answered, just as softly, without looking up. The silence that hung between them, though heavy, was warm and comforting, each boy drawing whatever small measure of strength they could from their friendship. After what seemed like forever, Sean heaved a deep sigh and looked up sadly. "I wish I could stay longer but…"

The rest of the sentence went unspoken, Charles understood perfectly why his friend had to go without needing to hear the words.

"I know." He whispered. "It's okay."

"I don't want to leave you."

"You have to. You'll be punished if you don't and I don't want to see you hurt because of me."

"Maybe I don't care if I get hurt."

"But I do. Go, please. I'll be okay. I promise."

Sean gave a reluctant, shallow nod and sighed again before withdrawing his hand.

"Alright. But I'll be back as soon as I can." Slowly, he got to his feet but instead of turning to leave, he hesitated a moment then leaned down and pressed a tender, chaste kiss to Charles' forehead, probably the only part of his body that didn't hurt.

The kiss took him by surprise but where the doctors touch earlier had made him panic, Sean's didn't scare him at all. His pain eased oh so slightly as a comforting warmth spread through his body, and a single tear slid down his cheek.

"Thank you." He whispered again as he watched Sean walk away, desperately fighting the urge to call out and beg him to stay and wishing with all his heart that Sean would kiss him like that again.

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** In answer to all of your questions, the answer is YES, MOST DEFINITELY, I WILL be continuing with this and all of my other stories. However, I find myself in the unfortunate position of having considerably less time on my hands in which to write than I did when I first began so sadly it might take quite a while. Please be patient, and don't worry. I would never leave a story unfinished.

* * *

Erik looked up from his desk as the door to his office swung open.

"You wanted to see the boy as soon as he…" Azazel growled, his accent thick with irritation.

"Yes. Yes I did." Erik interrupted. "Send him in."

The Russian opened the door a little wider and gestured for his colleague to bring the boy. Seconds later Charles stumbled through the open door rubbing at his wrist and grumbling at whoever had shoved him.

"There's no need to be so rough, it's not like I can run away."

Azazel closed the door then assumed his position in front of it, arms folded across his broad chest, glaring at the back of Charles' head as he straightened himself up. Erik pushed back his chair and stood up.

"Charles." He said, walking round to the front of his desk then leaning back casually against the edge.

"That's my name."

There was little of the usual fire in the boys words Erik observed and even from a few feet away he could see the boys cheeks were blotchy and his eyes red rimmed and glassy. He took a step forward and on closer inspection he saw the lashes were also wet and clumped together. Despite the attitude he was currently displaying, Charles had obviously been crying just a few minutes ago. That pleased Erik on many levels, not the least of which was physical. His cock stirred in his pants. The idea of bending the boy over his desk and fucking him right then and there until he was sobbing again was incredibly tempting but regrettably there was business to attend to. Fucking Charles would have to wait.

"Do you know why you're here?"

There was a visible slump in Charles' shoulders and his pretty blue eyes dropped to the floor.

He _did_ know why he was here. The doctor had already told him that he was giving him the medical all clear. It had taken him a moment to process what that meant and once he had, he'd completely fallen to pieces, on his knees at the doctors feet, sobbing hysterically, begging for just one more day because he couldn't go back out there yet, he just couldn't, he would die if he had to. The doctor had looked down at him with pity and told him he was very sorry, he wished he could do more but he'd already bought him two more days than he should have had and Mr Lehnsherr was beginning to lose his patience, there was no way he could swing another.

"You're putting me back to… work." He mumbled, his voice cracking.

"That's right. Nothing too strenuous for now given your current fragile state but…"

Charles looked up from the floor, a deep crease in his brow.

"W, what?"

"Don't look so surprised. I'm a business man first and foremost and I can't afford for you to be out of action again so soon after…"

"After being raped almost to death." Charles finished for him. For a few brief seconds the fire threatened to return but Erik ignored it and the spark fizzled out before it could catch.

"I've already lost more money on you than I'd anticipated. I'm far from being out of pocket so to speak but another… incident like the last could see that change and I'm not prepared to let that happen so, light duties for a little while longer."

Charles didn't know whether to be grateful for the stay of execution or angry at the cold hearted way in which it was delivered.

"Now." Erik continued. "Take off your clothes."

"I… What?"

"You heard me. Strip. And be quick about it, I don't have all day."

For a moment Charles thought he might protest but really, what would be the point? He was going to end up naked eventually whether he liked it or not and it wasn't as if Lehnsherr hadn't seen him that way before.

With a deep and somewhat tremulous sigh he shrugged off his shirt, a gentle tug seeing it free of his wrists and on the floor. His hands were shaking as he reached for the fly of his jeans. His first attempt at unbuttoning them was unsuccessful. He tried again but his fingers refused to cooperate. The shaking spread from his fingers to the entire rest of his body. Scared, frustrated and ashamed, he flushed a deep red colour and a tear rolled down his cheek. He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes tightly shut in an attempt to calm himself, realising too late that he'd made a huge mistake. In the darkness all he could see was Sebastian Shaw ordering him to strip, leering at him, licking his lips in anticipation of the atrocities he was about to commit.

The memory was too much to bear. His eyes flew open, his knees turned to jelly beneath him, and he stumbled sideways, somehow managing not to fall.

"I can't. I can't, I'm sorry. Please don't… I'm sorry." He babbled between wrenching sobs.

Erik let out an annoyed sigh then waved a hand, beckoning his assistant..

"Azazel, if you would please."

"Yes boss." The Russian grinned, stepping forward .

Charles panicked. The idea of being forcibly stripped by the Russian behemoth filled him with horror. Just the thought of yet another mans hands on his body made him feel nauseas.

"NO!" He cried out, taking a step backwards and almost tripping over the edge of the rug. "Don't touch me." He cast a desperate, pleading glance in Lehnsherr's direction. "Don't let him touch me please. Please. I'll do it myself, just please don't let him…"

Lehnsherr nodded silently and held up a hand to halt Azazel who grumbled quietly under his breath.

Charles fumbled awkwardly with his fly, hesitating only briefly once the buttons had popped and swallowing thickly before wriggling out of the jeans and kicking them to one side where they joined his shirt.

Naked, frightened and humiliated he was unable to control the tremors that wracked his body as he waited to see what would happen next.

Slowly, deliberately so it seemed, almost as if he wanted to prolong Charles' torment, Lehnsherr moved forward. His eyes examined every single part of the young man's body, lingering on the curve of Charles' neck, his throat, his hips, making him shiver with discomfort.

Erik paid no attention to the boys trembling as he circled him, intimately searching every inch of bare skin in a manner he told himself had everything to do with making sure there were no lingering marks on the boys body which might devalue him, however temporarilly, and nothing at all to do with his need to burn the disturbing images of a bruised and bloodied Charles lying half dead in Hank's infirmary from his mind.

Satisfied at last he walked back to his desk.

"You may get dressed." He said as he sat back down. Charles let out a sigh of relief and gathered up his clothes, dressing as quickly as he could before Lehnsherr changed his mind. "You have an appointment in one hour. The client is aware of your current limitations, I don't anticipate there being any problems. When you're finished you're to make yourself available for oral sex to clients who may wish to indulge while they're waiting for their paid appointments. Is that clear?"

He looked up at Charles from beneath a raised eyebrow. Charles opened and closed his mouth a couple of times but no sound came out so he just nodded.

"Good. And tonight, after dinner I shall expect to see you in my suite, teeth brushed, freshly showered and dressed in trunks and a robe. Is that also clear?"

Charles nodded again, not even attempting to find his voice.

"Good. You may leave now. Azazel, see that he's taken to Sean's room. _He_ can explain everything, I don't have time."

_Wait. What? Sean? What the Hell did Sean have do with any of this?_ Charles wondered to himself but the large Russian bundled him out of the door before he had a chance to ask.

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


	13. Chapter 13

"I feel sick." Charles mumbled into his hand. "I can't do it Sean, I just can't."

Sean sighed softly.

"Yes you can. Trust me." He placed a hand lightly on Charles' knee then removed it almost instantly when Charles visibly tensed. "It'll be okay, I promise."

Charles stood up and began pacing back and forth, shaking his head vigorously.

"No. It won't." He said, his voice pitchy and uneven as panic set in. It was too soon after his… after Sebastian Shaw. It would always be too soon, he'd never be free, it would always be there with him every time he closed his eyes, every time someone touched him. He still had nightmares about it. He still woke up screaming every night. Just the thought of putting someone else through what he been through disgusted him. The thought of doing it to Sean, his only real friend in this place was almost crippling. "It won't be okay, it'll never be okay. I… I can't hurt you like that Sean."

Sean smiled weakly, reaching for Charles' hand, stopping him mid pace and easing him back down on the bed beside him

"It doesn't always hurt Charles. I've done this before remember, before I came here, I know what I'm talking about. When the person you're with takes their time and pays attention to you, it can feel really nice."

Charles didn't understand how it could ever feel anything but painful and humiliating and he shook his head again.

"No. No."

"Look." Sean let out another, deeper sigh. "I understand that you're scared okay, but we have to do this, we don't have a choice. This guy's paying Lehnsherr a lot of money to watch two boys…" Sean paused briefly. "To watch two boys fucking, and since you're not properly healed that means you have to be the one to fuck me. I'm okay with that, I really am."

Charles looked at Sean, horrified. He truly couldn't see how anyone could ever be okay with that, with being violated that way. He opened his mouth to protest but Sean stopped him.

"It'll be good." He whispered. "I promise. I…" He bit his lip and his eyes fluttered closed, a faint blush staining his cheeks. "I wanna do this with you Charles. I like you, a lot, and if this hadn't happened, if I'd met you out there somewhere in the real world, I'd definitely..." He didn't finish his sentence but it was clear what he meant.

"You would?" Charles frowned. His head tilted a little to one side and he stared hard at the red-headed boy, trying to make out if he was being truthful or if he was just telling him what he thought he needed to hear in order to get the job done. He couldn't be sure, one way or the other.

"Hell yeah!" Sean answered, blushing a little deeper and giving Charles a small smile. "I like sex. I mean, I used to, before…" He waved his hand absently in no particular direction. "Before all of this, but… it hasn't been good since I got here and it probably never will be again and I just… I know you won't hurt me like they do because you know what it's like, and I wanna feel good just one more time while I still can. Does that make sense?"

For the longest time Charles just stared at his friend. Sean stared back in silence, watching as every possible emotion, every possible fear, flashed in Charles sad blue eyes. Eventually his shoulders sagged as the minutest amount of tension bled out and he gave a small nod, accepting the fact that the other boy believed what he was saying. It helped Charles to believe too but he still wasn't sure that he'd be able to go through with it.

"What if I can't… you know?" He said in a small voice, cheeks colouring red with embarrassment as he gestured vaguely towards his groin area. "I'll need to be hard. What if I can't…"

"Don't worry about that, I'll take care of it."

Another moments silence followed.

"Okay." Charles murmured quietly at last. Sean smiled.

Just seconds later the door to the room swung open, startling both boys, and in blustered a short fat man in a dark suit. The man leered at them.

"Very nice. Erik has good taste." He took off his suit jacket, hung it on a hook on the back of the door and took a seat opposite the bed. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get started."

Sean took the initiative and slowly, so as not to stress his friend out any more than he already was, he leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Charles tensed a little, his gaze darting sideways to where the man sat, watching them. Sean placed a hand on Charles cheek, drawing his attention away from the man and back to himself.

"Pretend he isn't there." He whispered, quietly enough that only Charles could hear. "Relax and just follow my lead okay?"

Charles made a small noise that maybe could have been interpreted as a moan at a push, but otherwise didn't move.

"You're going to have to kiss me back if this is ever going to look convincing."

An apologetic look darkened Charles' eyes then a moment later he did as he was told.

Sean moaned into the kiss, teasing Charles lips apart and slipping his tongue between them.

Charles still wasn't feeling it but he kissed back anyway, with as much enthusiasm as he could muster because Sean was his friend, the only person here who gave a damn about him and he didn't want to risk Sean being punished because he himself hadn't played his part. The kiss continued. Charles listened carefully to his friends moans and sighs and tried his very best to imitate them.

When Sean's hands found his shoulders and began to gently knead them through his shirt, he felt a small surge of panic, and when Sean's hands slid down his back and came to settle on his hips that panic swelled. He clenched his hands into fists at his side and willed himself to calm down.

Slowly, carefully, Sean slipped his hands underneath Charles' shirt. Charles flinched at the contact with his bare skin but Sean's whispered apologies and reassurances were able to soothe him somewhat.

"Keep your eyes on me." He said. "I'm not Shaw, I'm not going to hurt you."

Gentle hands roamed his stomach and ribs, moving higher, caressing his chest. He bit his lip and focussed on Sean, on red hair and freckles and everything about him that was nothing like Shaw. After a time, he began to relax into the touch and when Sean finally moved to remove Charles' shirt, he didn't resist.

Follow my lead. He remembered Sean telling him that, so with a deep breath and shaky fingers he reached out to grab the hem of Sean's skinny t-shirt and tugged it over his head. Sean smiled at him, raising his arms to make it easier, then he leant in for another kiss.

This time when Charles moaned, it was with genuine pleasure. Just a trace, but it was there, trying to keep from being crushed beneath the weight of his fear.

He allowed Sean to push him onto his back, shuffling towards the centre of the bed when Sean nudged him in that direction.

"I'm going to undo your pants now." His friend murmured against his ear as his hands began to fumble with Charles' fly. It came open easily and his slid his hand inside, cupping the still limp flesh he found there. Charles let out a soft gasp, more from surprise than anything. "Okay, now moan, loudly and tell me to suck you."

Charles froze momentarily, then he swallowed and moaned as instructed, feeling awkward and self conscious.

"Sean." He moaned again. "Suck me… Please."

Sean grinned then, sliding down his body, leaving a trail of warm, wet kisses over his torso and abdomen until he reached his destination.. Holding open Charles' fly, he nuzzled his face against the soft, lightly haired skin above the base of his cock and hummed.

In spite of himself, Charles found his body reacting to the things that Sean was doing to him. Heat pooled in the pit of his stomach and his cock stirred as it began to fill with blood. He moaned again, and Sean seemed to take this as a sign that it was okay to continue. He hooked his thumb through the empty belt loops on Charles' jeans and tugged them down past his hips, exposing him.

"Please, Sean. Suck me." Charles wasn't sure any more if he was play acting for the man in the suit or if he really wanted this. Maybe it was a little of both. Either way, Sean was happy to give him what he asked for, dipping his head to tongue briefly and teasingly at Charles balls, then licking a wet stripe from base to tip of his now fully hard cock before wrapping his lips around the head and taking him properly in his mouth.

The moist heat that enveloped him was unlike anything Charles had ever felt before. He groaned deeply, his hips jerking involuntarily, thrusting himself further into Sean's mouth. He heard the other boy retch, felt his throat contract around him and he fought desperately to hold himself still after that, remembering what it had been like when Shaw had forced himself into his mouth, remembering how much it had hurt, how humiliating it had been, how he'd been afraid at first that he would choke to death. He glanced down at Sean, hoping to catch his gaze and offer some sort of apology but found Sean already looking up at him through watery eyes and pale lashes, with a look that hinted at want, silently telling him that everything was alright.

"You taste so good Charles." He moaned enthusiastically, letting Charles' hard length slip from between his lips just briefly before taking him back in once again and bobbing his head. Sean continued to moan as his lips slid up and down Charles' shaft and Charles couldn't help but respond with more moans of his own. Sean had been right, it was nice. Really nice. But try as he might he couldn't shut his mind completely off from the truth of where he was and why, he couldn't forget that they weren't alone. He was all too aware of the man watching them and he didn't need to look to his side to know that the man was jerking off. He couldn't pretend he wasn't there the way Sean seemed to have done, so instead he just told himself he didn't care if they were being watched. It helped, a little.

After some time, Charles wasn't sure how long, Sean stopped sucking and removed his mouth. He couldn't quite find it within himself to protest and beg him not to stop but he definitely missed the contact, that was until Sean replaced his lips with his hand and stroked him lazily.

"I want you inside me." He rasped, looking Charles right in the eye, gaze steady as he began stripping himself out of his own jeans. "I want you to fuck me so bad." Now Charles was back to wondering what was play acting and what was real but before he had chance to think past that, his attention was caught by a loud scraping sound and when he turned his head to see what had caused it he saw that the man had dragged his chair closer to the bed for a better view.

He turned away immediately and fixed his gaze on Sean, who by now had wriggled his jeans down to his ankles and was eagerly kicking them off. Now that he was naked, Charles could see that Sean was as hard as he was and that surprised him given that he'd done nothing more than kiss his friend half heartedly. Could it be that Sean really did want him as he'd claimed, that he wasn't just putting on a show for their audience?

"Fuck. I'm so turned on right now Charles." He groaned, giving himself a few rough tugs as he straddled Charles' hips and pressed their cocks together. Charles' back arched as a new wave of sensation washed over him and his hips bucked, causing his cock to slide slickly against Sean's and both of them to curse under their breath in pleasure.

Sean fell forward so that he was laying flush against Charles' body. He kissed him again, Charles kissed back, this time with genuine need, need that grew more insistent when Sean's kisses moved to his ear and he whispered…

"I'm going to ride you now."

"Yes." Charles groaned. He realised now, that as afraid as he was, as reluctant as he was to hurt his friend, he did want this, as much as Sean did.

"I already prepared myself before I came here so you don't have to worry okay? Just let me do all the work, all you have to do is lay back and enjoy.

Sean sat back, lifting his hips and arranging himself so that he hovered above Charles cock. He reached behind himself then and took hold of the hard, throbbing shaft holding it in position against his hole as he slowly sank down on it.

The two boys moaned in unison, as did their audience, though they barely noticed him as they writhed and bucked and ground until they found their rhythm. Sean worked his hips frantically, the muscles in his ass relaxing each time he lifted himself almost completely off Charles' cock then clenching tightly as she sank back down impaling himself on it. Charles own hips moved at an equally frantic pace, thrusting up into Sean's body with abandon.

He still had a deep seated fear, not far buried in the back of his mind. He still worried that fucking Sean made him no better than any of the other men who came here and paid to used their bodies. He still didn't really understand how it was possible that Sean could be enjoying this, but the desperate moans that tumbled from his mouth and the weeping erection that bounced against his stomach with each rise and fall were evidence enough that he was enjoying it so Charles tried to focus on that.

Now and again when the man in the suit, now mostly out of his suit, made a particularly loud noise Charles would lose focus and begin to doubt himself, slowing his thrusts and looking apologetically at his friend. In those moments Sean would bear down on him with more force and beg.

"More. Harder. Oh God Charles, fuck me harder."

Before long, both boys were almost at their end. Thrusts had become more erratic, breathing more laboured, moans and pleas less coherent. Sean reached for one of Charles' hands and placed it over his straining length, squeezing gently and encouraging Charles to stroke him. Charles took the hint.

"Fuck yeah. Just like that. God you feel so fucking good." The redhead groaned as he writhed atop his friend. "I'm gonna… Oh God Oh God I…"

He tensed suddenly, his entire body rigid and still then, just as suddenly he went limp and he was cumming in thick white ropes across Charles' stomach and chest while he shook and panted and sobbed from the intensity of it all. Charles lost himself after that, the feeling of Sean's muscles tightening around him as his orgasm ripped through him was enough to tip Charles over the edge and with one final thrust and a sob of his own, he too was cumming, hard and fast and deep inside of Sean's body.

They stayed locked together like that until Sean could no longer hold himself up and collapsed against Charles chest, slightly off centre, one arm and one leg draped across Charles' own, face buried in the crook of his neck. Together they rode out the last waves of their climax, clinging tightly to one another, almost afraid to let go.

The contentment couldn't last though. Charles had never really believed it would. The man who had been watching them now stood no more than a foot away from the edge of the bed, grunting obscenely and pulling at his prick as if his life depended upon it. Charles tried to block him out but it was impossible with him looming over them and the harsh reality of their situation hit him like a punch in the gut, making him feel guilty and ashamed of what he'd just done.

"Don't." Sean murmured against his skin, sensing the change in his friend. "Don't spoil it. Please." So Charles didn't, he just held on to the other boy and prayed for just a little more time before someone came to drag them both away to their next appointments.

* * *

**Next chapter - Charles Keeps his appointment with Erik, in his suite.**

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


End file.
